


Close Quarters

by dogpoet



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-24
Updated: 2009-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogpoet/pseuds/dogpoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Spock seemed to be implying that if they cleared their minds, the field would cease to exist. There was only one thing that cleared Jim's mind.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Quarters

Jim crossed his arms and glared at the invisible forcefield surrounding him and Spock. Spock cautiously prodded at the air with his index finger.

"Fascinating," Spock said, his voice level and calm. He raised his tricorder, trying to get a reading. "The forcefield is stronger around you than it is around me."

Jim scowled. "You know, I'm really fucking tired of getting singled out for these alien mind whammies."

Spock looked at him with his eyebrow slightly lifted. "I fail to comprehend your terminology. If you will, Captain." Spock gestured for Jim to raise his hand and place it against the forcefield. "Observe." He placed his own hand beside Jim's. "Now push."

They both exerted force with their hands, but Spock's hand was able to go farther. He wiggled his fingers experimentally.

Great, rub it in that I'm the one that gets more whammy, Jim thought. How could Spock be so damn calm all the time. They'd been captured by Xerelians, divested of their phasers and communicators, and confined within a forcefield from which there was no obvious escape. Jim hated the feeling that he couldn't do anything about a situation. It made him really, really grouchy. The Xerelians didn't appear to have any intention of letting them go. They weren't even making any demands! And if they didn't make any demands, then Jim had no opportunity to pull a fast one on them.

"What do you think it is, Spock? Is it like that other thing where the more force you exert, the harder it resists?" If so, they'd only wear themselves out trying to escape.

"Negative. The two of us likely exerted a similar amount of force. I believe that since the Xerelians are a highly emotive people, the forcefield gains its strength from our states of mind." Spock peered at his tricorder display as if it held the secrets to the universe.

"Hah!" Jim exclaimed. "I'm more pissed off than you, so I get the bigger alien mind whammy."

Spock tore his attention away from his tricorder, and focussed on his captain. "I believe that is an accurate assessment. Perhaps if I meditate, I will be able to escape."

"And leave without me?" Jim knew he was being whiny, but he enjoyed nettling his first officer. He had a suspicion that Spock secretly liked it. In fact, he suspected there were a lot of things Spock secretly liked but would never admit to.

That was almost a smile. "I would never do such a thing," Spock said.

Jim gave his mind over to their dilemma. There was no way in hell he was going to meditate. Even if he wanted to, his mind would never stop running around in circles, considering this or that possibility. That was how he was wired. Spock seemed to be implying that if they cleared their minds, the field would cease to exist. There was only one thing that cleared Jim's mind.

Of course, Spock would never go for that.

Spock had settled on the floor, his legs crossed, hands resting casually on his knees. He looked up at Jim. "It is impossible to meditate when you continue to pace in such a manner."

"I'm not pacing. There's no room to pace."

"You are bouncing off the walls of the forcefield." Spock closed his eyes, and that was almost as good as saying: Shut up and stay still.

Jim sighed. He sat down, his knees shoved up against Spock's in the tiny space. He settled his chin is his hand and watched his first officer meditate. He tried not to drum his fingers on his pants leg. He tried not to jiggle his knee.

Spock opened his eyes.

"I was trying to stay still!" Jim defended himself before Spock could utter an accusation. "Don't you think that if this plan is going to work, we _both_ need to be able to escape?"

Spock was all patience. "The thought had crossed my mind. However, you are not doing anything to ameliorate the situation. I see no effort on your part to clear your mind of its...chaos."

"I know you don't think I'm trying, but I am." Jim gave Spock his most sincere expression. "Maybe you can meld with me and give me some of your calm." He and this Spock had never melded. Jim had often wondered what it would be like. The other Spock had felt like an extension of his own mind despite the powerful emotions that had come through. He kind of missed how intimate that had been. He had trusted the old man immediately.

Spock only looked at him with a forbearing expression, which was not that different from his default face. It had been kind of awesome to see him riled up. Jim had somehow known Spock wouldn't really hurt him even when his strong hands had almost cut off his air supply.

"Can I tell you something?" Jim asked.

"Does it relate to the matter at hand?"

"Of course. I can focus when it's important. The thing is, it's sex. The mind-clearing thing. For me, I mean. And I bet it is for you, too. Whereas this meditation stuff, not really working for me." Jim wasn't sure what response he expected. He lifted his gaze to look at Spock.

It wouldn't have surprised him if Spock had dismissed his answer. Or if he'd ignored it. It also wouldn't have shocked him to find a hand strangling him again.

"Fascinating," Spock said. "But not entirely unexpected."

Jim punched Spock in the arm. "See? You totally know me already!"

Spock looked imperturbable as always. "Are you suggesting that we initiate a sexual encounter in order to eliminate the forcefield?"

"Can't hurt. Might help," Jim said cheerfully.

Spock was silent for a moment, staring at a space to Jim's left. "I am not averse to the idea," he decided.

"Holy shit. You aren't?" Jim wondered for a second if he had misheard.

"There is a certain logic to your suggestion. And, given that I cannot induce a meditative state in your presence, I see no alternative." Spock continued to avoid Jim's eyes.

"Wow. This wasn't how I thought it would happen."

Spock glanced up quickly, surprise plain on his normally placid face. His ears turned a bit green. "You have considered this scenario before?"

"Not this _exact_ scenario," Jim corrected, then leaned forward abruptly and kissed the slightly open mouth across from him. He didn't want to give Spock time to reconsider.

But the kiss seemed to be, in fact, just fine with Spock because his mouth opened more, letting Jim in. Spock's tongue slid against his, warm and agile, fluttering against Jim's teeth and the roof of his mouth. To his surprise, it was Spock who took the lead, pushing him back against the forcefield, plundering his mouth as if he'd been waiting years to do so.

Awkwardly, Jim unfolded his legs, spreading them. Spock was already on his knees, and they sank down together onto the floor, the tricorder clanking noisily against the hard surface. Jim's legs were bent at the knee, feet crunched up against one edge of the enclosure, head pressing into the other edge. Spock straddled him, also crashing into the forcefield with several body parts.

"They could've given us some fucking room," Jim commented between kisses, even though it wasn't that unpleasant to be so crowded. He was just glad he'd gotten trapped with Spock and not Cupcake. He'd wanted Spock for so long. His dick was already achingly hard. He wondered if Spock felt the same, or if this was simply a means of solving an immediate problem. Spock was always so logical and scientific about things.

Spock ceased his kisses for a moment, and Jim looked at him curiously. Spock's eyes had gone completely dark, as they had during his confrontation with Jim on the bridge all those months ago. There was passion there, and bare need. The intensity was almost frightening.

"Hey," Jim said. "It's okay." He cradled a hand around the back of Spock's neck, and brought him in for a gentle kiss. "It's okay. I'll be here." He didn't know what he was saying, only that he needed to touch Spock, to make sure he was there. He slid one hand underneath Spock's shirt, skating the pads of his fingers across smooth skin.

Calmed, Spock resumed his heated exploration of Jim's mouth, biting at his lip, tonguing the narrow gap between his bottom teeth. Raising himself up on one elbow, he reached for the fastening of Jim's pants with his free hand.

"Fuck," Jim said, trying to lift his hips, but unable to due to Spock's weight. "Get up, will you?"

There was a confusing tangle of limbs and some jabbing of knees into thighs. A few more curses from Jim, and then they were upright, facing one another, Jim's pants unzipped but not down, both of them slightly out of breath.

"We should keep our clothes on," Jim stated with brilliant foresight.

"Wise," Spock answered, pushing Jim's pants down over his hips.

Jim took over, slipping his briefs over his erection, and then down to join his pants around his knees. Spock just stared. Jim palmed the front of Spock's pants, getting the lay of the land. Yeah, Spock was as hard as he was. His fingers made quick work of the fastening of Spock's pants, then yanked down both pants and briefs. Still on its strap, the tricorder hung incongruously against Spock's bare hip.

In the year of their working together, Jim had given a not insignificant amount of thought to what Spock looked like naked. He'd even gone so far as to see if there was any 'Starfleet porn' to be found – sometimes there were biological texts whose pictures left little to the imagination. But none had bothered to elucidate the reproductive organs of Vulcans. Maybe only Bones had access to those. Jim had no problem with whatever came his way in bed, but, aside from a hint of green instead of pink, Spock's dick was mostly like his own, turgid and weeping with need.

They both looked up at the same time.

"You okay?"

"'Okay' has variable meanings –"

"I think you're okay," Jim said, rolling his eyes. He curled his fingers around Spock's shaft, and pumped it slowly.

Spock's eyes closed, and he panted. Jim grinned. He liked seeing Spock so helpless and un-self-conscious. Jim swept his thumb across the soft head of Spock's cock, smearing the precome around the slit. Then he went down on his knees, pushing Spock against the wall of the forcefield. Spock stumbled back a step as the forcefield gave slightly. Jim tried not to feel too proud of the fact that he'd almost cleared Spock's mind just by putting his hand on his dick.

He couldn't spread Spock's legs the way he wanted to because Spock was still mostly wearing his pants, but he improvised, using less finger action than he usually did, two digits massaging the spot just behind Spock's balls. He held Spock's shaft in the other hand, continuing to move his fist. He sucked one testicle into his mouth, swiping it with his tongue. He held onto it gently as he pulled back, then let it go. Spock made a little noise. Jim licked the crease of his thigh, looking up to see the expression on Spock's face. His eyes were closed, and he seemed far more open and relaxed than usual.

Just as Jim bowed his head to blow Spock out of his mind, he felt a sudden, strong grip on his shoulder.

"I said I would not leave you behind." Spock gazed down at him intently, his cheeks awash with color. "Come here."

Jim obeyed, standing and letting himself be pulled close, his dick pressed up against Spock's. Instinctively, he rutted up against his first officer. Spock leaned toward Jim, capturing his mouth again. Jim insinuated a hand between their bodies, grasping both of their cocks. Two powerful Vulcan hands grabbed his ass, kneading and exploring. Fingers slipped between his cheeks, searching and finding.

For once, Jim couldn't talk at all. They moved together, more and more frantic, lips and teeth clashing. Something white-hot sped up Jim's spine, cutting his brain off from the rest of his body, and he was falling –

They both stumbled out of the forcefield and fell in a heap on the ground.

"Fuck!" Jim said, grabbing his knee, which felt like someone had hit it with a sledgehammer.

Spock was suddenly beside him, hovering and concerned. "Are you all right?"

Jim panted, not speaking. Spock touched the side of his face with tender fingers.

"I'm okay," Jim finally said. He'd endured far worse during bar brawls. Pain was somehow different when he wasn't expecting it. He glanced down at his shirt, which was stained with wetness. He could just see explaining that to Bones. "Ugh," he grunted, and got up. Favoring his bruised leg, he pulled up his pants.

Spock already looked tidy, neatly buttoning his pants and zipping them.

"Hey, you didn't –"

"It is of no consequence," Spock said, cutting Jim off. He adjusted the tricorder, and scanned the room, seeking the way out.

Jim was getting pretty good at reading his first officer. When he said, 'It is of no consequence', he usually meant it _was_ of consequence, but he wasn't going to make a big deal about it. Jim made a grab for Spock's hand. "Later," he said. "I wouldn't just leave you behind."

Spock considered him for a moment. "Understood."

"Good."

Together they strode toward the door, ready to face whatever Xerelian guards stood behind it.


End file.
